"Lie quiet, Clancy, me boy: you must be quiet, or you'll move the bandages."
"Who did he say was burned? who was he going to see?" gasped the sufferer.
"The new lieutenant, Clancy,—him that pulled ye out. He's a good one, and it's Mrs. Clancy that'll tell ye the same."
"Tell him what?" said she, turning about in sudden interest.
"About the lieutenant's pulling him out of the fire and saving your money."
"Indeed yes! The blessings of all the saints be upon his beautiful head, and—"
"But who was it? What was his name, I say?" vehemently interrupted Clancy, half raising himself upon his elbow, and groaning with the effort. "What was his name? I didn't see him."
"Lieutenant Hayne, man."
"Oh, my God!" gasped Clancy, and fell back as though struck a sudden blow.
She sprang to his side: "It's faint he is. Don't answer his questions, sergeant! He's beside himself! Oh, will ye never stop talking to him and lave him in pace? Go away, all of ye's,—go away, I say, or ye'll dhrive him crazy wid yer—Be quiet, Mike! don't ye spake agin." And she laid a broad red hand upon his face. He only groaned again, and threw his one unbandaged arm across his darkened eyes, as though to hide from sight of all.